


camped spark

by feyrith



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1950s, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nationverse, NedDen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyrith/pseuds/feyrith
Summary: a camping trip to mark the arrival of a new decade after the second world war, netherlands finds his muse to paint something that brings him and denmark even closer together





	camped spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caffinated_Story](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinated_Story/gifts).



> this is my 2017 aphsecretsanta rarepair secret santa gift for caffinated_story  
> i decided to go with netherlands/denmark, and did my best to fulfill the prompts ‘1950s’, ‘landscape painting’, and ‘campsite fire’

“Hey,” Denmark says after another world meeting, this one the start of a new decade, another page turned over since the end of the war. “Let’s go on a camping trip. Just you and me. It’s been a while, huh? We deserve some downtime, and I know you love spending time with me.” Netherlands, surprisingly, doesn’t think about it all that much; he blames it equally on the years of warfare still addling with his decision making, and his merchant’s mind processing things before the rest of him could seem to.

It’s not until he’s back at home, trying to figure out what he needs to pack, that he realises he also easily agreed with Denmark’s statement of how much he enjoys spending time with the other.  _Well_ , he thinks, making sure he has a clean roll of canvas in among his bag of clothing, determined to get some painting in during the time off,  _he isn’t wrong_. Not that he’s going to admit that out loud.

It’s three days after Denmark first proposed the trip that they head out. “My place this time,” the Dane had said cheerily as they made sure they had everything in the car, their bicycles strapped firmly to the roof. “And yours next time!” Netherlands tries not to think too much about camping with Denmark becoming a regular part of his life, afraid of liking the idea a little too much.

They set out to the chosen destination, parking the car on the side of the road in a seemingly remote location, cycling out to whatever hidden glade Denmark has discovered at some point in his long life. When he proclaims they’ve arrived, Netherlands can’t help but find himself rather awestruck. Despite the years that have passed since the war, the world is still most certainly healing, and to see such an untouched place in his friend’s land patches up a tiny part of his old, injured heart.

“Not too bad,” is what he says, setting his bags down before finding the one that contains the tent. “Help me with this.” It doesn’t take them long to set the two person tent up, laying out their bedding inside before Denmark says he’s going to go find firewood.

“There’s still some things at the car,” he tells Netherlands. “So if you want, you can go get them, or I’ll do it once I get the wood.” He smiles brightly and heads off among the trees, surprisingly quiet for a man of his size, and for someone who doesn’t always seem to know when to shut his mouth.

For a while, Netherlands just breathes, taking in the surroundings. There’s a creek nearby, the soft hush of the water over the stones soothing his thoughts. He knows he’ll find his muse for painting here, so long as Denmark doesn’t end up watching over his shoulder. Picking his bicycle up again, he heads back to their car, gathering up the last bags of supplies - mostly food - before heading back to the campsite.

By the time he returns, Denmark has a little fire crackling away, and the smile he gives him is just as warm as the flames. “I saw you put your painting things in,” he says conversationally, adding a few more twigs onto the slowly growing fire. “Think you might be able to paint something you’re happy with again?”

Netherlands props his bike against one of the trees, shedding his outer jacket after setting the last bags down. “Perhaps,” he says simply, digging his cigarettes from his pocket.

“This place has helped me out a lot,” Denmark continues on, unfazed with the one word answer from the other. “So I hope it helps you out too! Just make sure you don’t leave the ends of your cigarettes lying around.”

Netherlands’ heart gives an uneven thud when the Dane gives him that smile again; they’ve done things before, of course, their pasts far too intertwined to ignore giving each other the physical comforts they sometimes need. But it had never been anything personal or romantic… right? Despite this, he can’t deny that he holds a special place in his heart for Denmark, something that extends past giving him the buddy’s price when trading.

For the next three days, there’s a part of his mind, tucked away in the back, that thinks constantly about what he might feel for Denmark. Surely it’s foolish to suggest he’s in love with him… Yet spending this time alone with him in the tranquility of the Danish woods has him doubting himself. They drive back to Copenhagen that evening, Netherlands planning to return home the next day. Despite his nagging thoughts, he can’t deny the fact that he’s inspired after spending time among untouched nature again, and he hopes his muse remains with him until he’s in his studio again; he’d taken his supplies with him, but in the end decided he’s rather surprise the Dane with the painting than allow him to watch.

Netherlands has a work he’s proud of by the time the next bimonthly meeting comes around. It’s packed away carefully and transported with him, but he decides to wait until after the first day to present the gift to Denmark. When they’re all dismissed in the evening with plans to reconvene in the morning, he calls the Dane down to his hotel room.

“I have something for you,” he says, pulling the covered canvas out from where he’d carefully tucked it away. “And, for once, you don’t have to pay for it.”

Denmark laughs, stepping forwards to look at the painting when Netherlands uncovers it. He’s silent for a moment, gently tracing over the painted trees, the glow of the fire illuminating their little tent and camping set up, forever captured with the Dutchman’s brush. “I love it, Ned,” he says, nodding. “Yeah. I love it.” He looks up at the taller with that sunshine smile.

“Do you love me?” Netherlands blurts, because he wants Denmark to look at him the way he just looked at the painting, and he’s been thinking far too much about how he feels for the other since their trip two months ago.

Denmark blinks. “What do you think?” he asks in reply. “Whatever you think, the answer is yes. I really thought you quick-thinking merchant’s mind would’ve picked up on it by now… And people say I’m the thick one.” He smiles teasingly, and the hand that had been ever so gently brushing over the canvas now reaches for one of Netherlands’ work roughened hands. “And do you love me?” he asks. “Is that why you found your inspiration to paint again?”

“Yes.” There’s no point in denying it now, as he turns his wrist to gently interlock his fingers with the other man’s. “Spending time out there with you… Who knows how long it would be until I touch a brush if you hadn’t taken me there. How long I would go on pressing down how I feel for you.”

Denmark’s cheeks are dusted pink now, but his smile hasn’t faded one bit. “I guess we’re going camping more often then,” he laughs, before kissing Netherlands, who berates himself for his cliche thoughts but can’t deny the truth: this is the happiest he’s been in a long time, and maybe, finally, after years of warfare and working to rebuild, his life will start to liven up again.


End file.
